


You Have Terrible Commitment Issues

by SuzieCutie



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Also this isn't romantic at all pls don't insinuate it being so, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clover also sucks because her brain don't work right, Clover is a baby and loves her brother, Dialogue Heavy, Discussion of Mental Health, Extremely dialogue heavy oh my lord, Forgiveness, Gen, Lotsa miscommunication going on, Non romance, Sibling Interaction, There's lotsa layers to this one lads, There's sorta a preface to give context for her actions but the meat of it is in the second half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzieCutie/pseuds/SuzieCutie
Summary: Now I've grownBold and lonelyI should've stayedWith dear Brother at home





	You Have Terrible Commitment Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sibling's Day!  
> I wanted to write something to further expand on Clover and Hoxton's sibling relationship, so here it is! It was really rushed, so it might not be too too polished. I might fix it in the coming days, who knows! It's out in the world now, so enjoy!
> 
> ###  [RECOMMENDED LISTENING](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUMnh8nv3hM)

The rain had been getting louder the past few days. It started out as a little drizzle, but now, it was just a downpour. It wasn’t unusual for this time of year, not by a long shot, but it still felt like God was trying to drown the Motel they’d been shacked up at. The wind from it all made it almost impossible to smoke out on that balcony. It made her hands shake and want to retreat into the warm sleeves of her hoodie. Or, at least, she wanted to blame her shaking on the cold.

Clover had paced up and down that hallway a hundred times by then. Her wet boot prints were laid out before her on the concrete, plain as day as she came to the fair railing and turned back around. Pacing kept her mind busy, didn’t let it wander too much. Chain smoking helped too, little cigarette remnants that she’d tossed off into the parking lot below being a wonderful testament to her bad habits.

From outside their room, she could hear clamoring. Papers being rustled, furniture being nudged over to make room, the television droning on just loud enough to annoy her. She should be in there too, helping with the planning and tossing blueprints around, but she’d found an excuse to go hide away outside instead. Not like Hoxton would mind her now constant distance. Planning was always his job, his responsibility. She’d mostly just stood there lately, feigning her interest in the job and half listening to what he was saying.

“ _Fuck_ this.” She chuffed, throwing her cigarette down onto the ground with a bit too much force and crushing it under the heel of her boot.

It didn’t use to be this way. She used to have fun with him, with everything. There was a time when she wasn’t scared of him suddenly cutting her out of their little operation, leaving her behind now that she’d learned what he had to offer. The word ‘betrayal’ had wormed its way into her head these past few months, and it was rotting in there.

The door opened with a click, and she hurried to get inside without letting too much rain in. Despite trying to not make too much of a racket, Hoxton took quick note of her return, glancing up from the desk he was standing over. Jackass couldn’t even sit down like a normal person.

“Fucking hell, Shelly! You look like you’ve been through a god damn hurricane.”

“I might as well have. It’s disgusting out there.”

She’d been out in that rain for awhile, but she didn’t particularly care about being drenched. Rain was one of the only mildly positive things so called Great Britain had given her. So, she just haphazardly took her coat off and threw it onto the rack next to the door, before brushing past him to go fetch a towel from the bathroom. He’d complain if she got water on anything important.

“You know, you could’ve stayed inside. Popping out the batteries in a smoke alarm is a pain in the arse, but it’s better than looking like a fucking lake monster.”

“I needed space to think, Hoxton. Get off it.”

Her tone must have given him enough context for how she was feeling, because now he was standing in the doorway with that stupid look on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest. She hated it when he’d do this shit.

“Are you okay, Clover? You’re getting unusually snippy with me.”

She’d long buried her face into a towel, trying to dry off her hair and hide the grimace that’d spread on her face. Having him prod at her reminded her why she tried to get out of that Motel room in the first place. Being so close to him felt like she was going to suffocate, and it made her antsy. Made her want to run.

“I’m…” Clover paused, sucking in a breath through the towel, “I’m fine, I just have a lot on my mind. Please, don’t… Just don’t bother me over it, okay? I’m tired, it’s late. I just want to go lay down or something.”

She had to put up some form of fight or argument to get him to leave her be, and usually he backed off, but he wasn’t giving in so easily this time. Hoxton’s downfall would be his persistence, and though she’d appreciated it before, she wasn’t in the mood for it now.

“Listen, we don’t have to do this job tomorrow if you can’t handle it. Someone always wants guns stolen from some other poor bastard, and I’m sure we can find something else that’s a bit more your style, yeah?” He was trying to make her feel better based on assumptions, and that wasn’t going to fly very far tonight.

Besides that, she knew he’d be heartbroken if they backed out now, the night before a job he’d been looking forward to for so long. He’d put in so much work, and so much time, and so much effort to make something on this scale happen. He pulled a lot of strings, and called in a lot of favors. He said it’d be fine, but she knew he was a liar. And if he was lying about that, only God knew what else he was trying to hide from her. Her brain liked to tell her the worst of the possibilities, and at this point, she was inclined to believe in them.

Sighing, she put her towel down on the edge of the sink and pushed past him. This whole time, she hadn’t even spared him one look or a glance, and she intended to keep it that way.

“I can handle it just fine.” She said, lying through her teeth and throwing on her pajama pants, “I’ll get it done, you’ll get it done, we’ll both get it done. Just worry about the planning, okay.”

“Clover--”

“Hoxton.” She had her back to him, so he couldn’t see how upset the look on her face was. He could definitely hear it in her voice, though. She could hear his dejected kicked-puppy sigh from across the room, and that’s when she knew she’d won their little squabble.

“Alright. I’ll back off. Go get some rest, I’ll finish cleaning up and then it’ll be lights out.”

“Thank you.”

Those beds were itchy, and felt like laying boards, but she’d never thrown herself under some blankets quite that fast before. It was the same logic a child hiding from a monster had; If it can’t see you, it can’t hurt you. Pulling the sheets over her head, she let out a long exhale, trying to gather her thoughts. She’d said she was tired, but in reality, she couldn’t be more awake. Her eyes were glued to the outline of the door through the sheet, and for a long time, she just laid there, unmoving.

She listened to him turn that damned television off, and eventually wrap up all their blueprints, and shipping manifests, and other assorted intel. She could see him go over and lock the door and windows, before heading to change into his pajamas. She listened as he went about his nightly rituals, and the whole time, she was tense with panic under those blankets. As if at any moment, he could decide that she wasn’t worth all of this trouble, take his pistol out of it’s holster on the bedside table, and fire one quick bullet into her head. It would be so easy, and it made so much sense.

But that never came.

All that came was the sound of him shuffling over to her side of the bed to flick the light off and grab one stray document he’d left behind. She could see that he’d hesitated after that, however. Fear curled in her stomach as he stood, looming over her for just a few moments, before leaning to give her one gentle pat on the shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, probably, but it only served to make her tense further.

“Sweet dreams, Shelly.” His voice was quiet, and she could just barely hear him over the rain beating against the windows, but she heard it. At that, she pulled her knees up to her chest. She couldn’t say anything even if she wanted to.

In time, he also tucked away in his own bed for the night. But even after that, she didn’t move. Not even an inch. This was hell. She had to end this. She’d turned to be so scared of him these past few months, and she would leap at any chance she could get to get out. She was sure that he was thinking the exact same thing, or just waiting for a good chance to knock her off the wagon. If she didn’t act first, she’d end up getting hurt.

She didn’t want to live like this anymore, going from suffocating motel to suffocating motel, smoking whole packs of cigarettes away out of stress. Surely he’d noticed the change in her behavior by now. It was an unspoken race against time until he acted, and she was determined to not let him make the first move. She wouldn’t lose, not again.

Riveting her eyes shut, Clover finally moved to pull the blankets closer to herself. She’d resolved to it, then. At the very first chance she had, be it tomorrow or next week, she’d get out of this. He’d hate her for it, absolutely, but she wasn’t strong enough to do this anymore. She was too scared. All she needed was some little apartment in the middle of nowhere to hide away in for a few months, and then she could be free of all of this paranoia.

She’d run off and leave him and all of this nonsense behind, or maybe, if she was lucky, she would just disappear with all this rain.

**•••••**

  
Nowadays, Clover thought about that night a lot. The night before that gun job at the Army Reserve, where she let her brain get ahead of itself. Let herself get so caught up in the nonsense it was creating that she actually believed it. She made the biggest mistake of her life on that heist; Turning her back on the person she considered to be the only best friend she’d ever had. The regret she had over those actions she took ate at her for five long, hard, lonely years. She’d resolved to the fact that she’d never see Hoxton again, that he hated her guts, that he would gladly kill her given the chance for her sellout.

So, naturally, one could imagine her surprise when he’d contacted her out of the blue to ask her to join him and his new crew on a jewelry job. Not just any jewelry job, but the jewelry job. A diamond heist so fantastic and once in a lifetime that she had no choice but to come along. Everything said it was too good to be true, and that this was all just a trap to get back at her. Clover knew very well how vindictive and vengeful Hoxton was, and five years would be plenty of time to figure out some convoluted retaliation plan.

To this day she doesn’t know why she agreed. Maybe it was because this was her only option left. Life after leaving was difficult, and it was almost as if she’d never left the slums that she’d crawled out of. She was at her lowest low when she got his call, and one could only guess what she would’ve done had someone not intervened. But of all people, it had to be James Hoxworth.

That was almost a year ago, now. A year since she’d become a member of the notorious Payday gang. Upon seeing her for the first time again, Hoxton had nothing but a smile on his face, joyfully introducing her to all of his friends and her soon-to-be colleagues. There was no hint of her delusions anywhere; No hate, no vitriol, no revenge plan. It seemed he really did just want to reconnect with an old friend, who’d made a mistake that he was willing to let go. At that, she was happy. Very happy, in fact, but also confused. She couldn’t figure out why he kept acting like she’d never done anything in the first place. That almost bothered her more than the original act.

“Are you sure you guys can’t afford to buy a new fucking front door for this shit hole? The damn thing always sticks on me.” She griped.

The laundromat was an absolute mess, but for now, it was home away from home. That didn’t stop her from complaining about it’s shortcomings, however.

“I keep telling Dallas to do something about it, but he never listens to me. I’ll harass him about it more tomorrow.” Hoxton had come in before her, and was putting his cigarette out on the living room table’s ashtray.

“Why don’t you ask Bain about finally letting us spiffy this place up on top of that too. We need a color other than beige in here or I’ll lose my god damn mind.”

“Anything else you want me to handle for you, sunshine?” He gave her a look out of his peripherals, smug grin growing on his face.

“Yeah, how about you go make me a three course dinner, or give me a shoulder rub. Jackass.” Clover plopped down onto the love seat their boss had so graciously provided them with, noting that it definitely felt a little more broken than last time she’d crashed on it. For criminals with millions of dollars, they really couldn’t afford nicer furniture? God help them.

Hoxton had drifted over to what was probably the only good thing in that whole safehouse; The liquor cabinet. On the way here, Clover had brought up that there was a few things she’d wanted to talk to him about, and they’d agreed to discuss it over some whiskey. She knew the stuff tasted like rat poison, but Hoxton liked it, so she’d suffer through it just long enough to air her thoughts.

Despite being back in touch and working together again for a year, there still was this barrier between the both of them. They’d had little conversations about things before, but there was still a lot of dirty laundry that Clover just was too afraid to bring out to dry. Hopefully that would end tonight, however. She was sick of this aching, and at this point, she wanted nothing more than to be able to call him her brother again.

Not that she’d ever said that out loud before. It was just sort’ve an unspoken dynamic of their relationship.

Hoxton had come to sit next to her, two glasses and whiskey in hand. He seemed distracted, probably trying to figure out what it was she was going to bring up with him. Over those past five years, he’d changed a lot. He thought more, got lost in his own mind sometimes. She guessed it was a side effect of spending two years rotting in jail. Finding out about that was almost as hard to swallow as the idea of him getting caught in the first place. But that was a whole different can of worms that she didn’t even want to look at.

“Christ, yanno now that you mention it, it is pretty fucking dreary in here.” He remarked, handing her her glass.

“There’s at least ten years worth of cobwebs up in those rafters. You think if we plant some black mold or something, Bain will get us a place that was built sometime before the eighteen thirties?” She quipped back, smiling just a little bit.

That got a chuckle out of him whilst he filled her glass. She was glad that he was still so receptive to her jokes after all this time.

“If you can find a way to do that without getting yourself killed, be my guest.” He leaned back in his spot, shaking his head, “I think I might burn this hell hole down one day if I get the chance. Just dump a bunch of gasoline everywhere and be done with it.”

“That’s a little much, isn’t it?”

“Probably, but I like much.”

“Yeah, well just don’t do it while any important shite is still inside. Don’t want anyone getting red because you burned their family heirlooms to the ground.”

“I’ll think about it.” He was smiling too now, “But, I guess I should ask you what it was you wanted to talk to me about so much that you had to drag me down here when no one else was around.”

Oh joy. This was the fun part; Talking.

Swallowing the anxiety in her throat, Clover shifted to pull her legs up onto the couch. She had a hundred things to say, but no way to start off. Or, no way to start off that didn’t sound terrible. She’d changed a lot too over those five years, and one of the most glaring of those changes was that she was considerably less eloquent. She stuttered and stumbled over herself more. It was awful.

“It’s not just one thing I wanted to talk about. It’s a bunch.”

“Well, go on then. I’m listening.” He’d already downed half his glass.

She stared at him for awhile, trying to sort things in her head. She’d had the whole walk here from her apartment to think, but all that’d really come out of it was static.

“I guess… I guess the biggest thing I wanted to say to you was I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Did you steal something from the fridge again?” He was trying to make light of things, but she wasn’t having it.

“No, Hox-- I mean…” Her face twisted into pensiveness, “I mean I’m sorry for… what I did at the Army Reserve. I’ve never apologized to you for it, and I need to.”

The shock on his face was insurmountable. For a moment, he choked on his drink, before forcing it down his throat. Oh dear, this was a mistake. She shouldn’t have said anything. Why did she say anything.

“That shite five years ago? You’re still worried about that? I thought I’d made it obvious enough that I’d forgiven you over it, Clover.” He didn’t sound angry, but more so confused. He couldn’t possibly have an idea to how her actions had effected her, and how badly she needed to get some form of actual closure on the subject. He didn’t know she’d spent five years of her life regretting it, and missing him. Now it was time he learned, she supposed.

“That’s not the point, Hoxton.” She moved to set her glass down on the table, “The point is that I hate pretending like that that never happened. Like I never fucked up. Don’t act like you don’t hate it too.”

He didn’t say anything for awhile. Instead, he just stared at her, eventually turning his gaze off to the wall. He was never very good at being confronted, especially with things he’d apparently long buried. He was much more of the type to just push off his feelings and never discuss them, and she was well aware of this. So aware that she wouldn’t give him the chance to even try and pull that with her.

“I never viewed it as you fucking up. I just viewed it as you wanting to separate and go your own way, or retire. That’s what I thought you did. I may have been upset that you left me for the cops, but…”

“Hoxton, all the money I got from selling those guns was gone within a year. I had debts to pay off, bills to deal with, medication to get. I couldn’t have retired if I wanted to.”

“Well, I know that now.” He was visibly uncomfortable with how this conversation was going.

“I had no money, no options, and I turned my back on you. It ate me alive, Hox. Made me not want to get out of bed for weeks. I regretted it that bad--”

“Then why’d you do it?” He snapped at her. Frustration was getting the best of him, as it did, and she was expecting that to happen. It didn’t make it suck any less though.

“I did it because I was scared.”

“Of what!?” He sounded incredulous now.

“Of you.”

That shut him up, at least for a second. It didn’t feel good to say, but it was the truth. She hated that she’d let herself believe that he’d ever wanted any harm to come to her, especially after everything he’d done to show otherwise. Saying it hurt the both of them, and seeing it dawn on his face made her turn her attention to the floor.

“Did I… do something to you?” The frustration had faded away, and confusion had come back to it’s place.

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just that…” Clover paused, taking in a deep breath, “It’s just that I’m paranoid. My head makes up things. I can deal with it better now, but before, I didn’t know what to do other than run away.”

“Run away, sure, but did you really have to leave my ass to the cops?” Seemed he was still just a smidgen upset about that.

“Hey.” She furrowed her brow, staring at him, “You know damn well that I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Both of them were getting more than a little heated, and Clover recognized this, so she turned to down all of her whiskey in one big swig. It tasted just as bad as she thought it would, and it burned in her throat as it went. She could never understand why he liked this shit so much. He also took a moment to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It didn’t surprise her that it was hard for him to understand her motives. Hell, she didn’t even understand it. Looking back, she felt like an utter idiot for believing the things she did. But she couldn't change that, she could only apologize and hope that he still cared. Not that she deserved it.

“I never meant for any of that to happen, Hoxxy. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.” Hopelessness fringed her tone as she clarified, and it was completely unintentional. Hearing that made him look at her again, and with a sigh did he move to set his glass down on the table and lean forward.

“Clover, listen…” He started, bringing his hand to rub the back of his neck, “It’s alright. I accept your apology. You’ve made it up to me a hundred times over, don’t worry about it anymore. Okay?”

She didn’t look at him, so he moved to sit closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. She tensed on instinct, but relaxed after a few moments. It’d been a long time since she’d felt comfortable enough with him to even sit on the same couch, much less have him hold her. But it felt nice, even though it was so mundane.

“ _Okay_?” She hadn’t replied, so he gave her a squeeze, repeating himself.

“Okay.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the back of the couch with him. It felt like part of that weight that was on her shoulders for five years had been lifted. All she needed to know was that he didn’t want her dead. Lingering emotions and thoughts still dangled in her mind, but she’d let herself be content for now. God knows she needed to.

They sat there for a long time, not saying anything. He’d fallen into rubbing her arm, while she rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled like a mix of that god awful cologne him and his boyfriend was so fond of and, now, whiskey, but it was oddly comforting in a Hoxton sort’ve way. On top of that, his suit jacket was just the slightest bit scratchy, but it felt okay on her cheek.

“So, are you sure you still want me around?” She mumbled into the houndstooth cloth, feeling him look down at her.

“Unless you’re planning on robbing me again, I’m happy to have you here. Don’t you forget that.” He squeezed her, and she gave him a very weak shove, smiling.

“If you keep talking about it, then I might be tempted to. You’ve still got some of those nice gold watches, right?”

“Don’t even think about it, you little bastard.” He was smiling too, now.

This had gone over better than she thought it would, and to say she was feeling a little emotional would be an understatement. Having his forgiveness felt good, wonderful in fact. Being close with him again, close enough to feel okay calling him her brother, felt even better though.

Soon, they both devolved into talking about little things. Much less serious things, like things they’d seen while walking home, or shows they’d seen on television. It was getting later and later, and they both knew they had long walks home, but neither of them seemed to mind very much. They just kept talking, and laughing, and drinking. If one didn’t know better, you could assume that nothing had changed between them at all.

They must have sat there together for hours, but eventually, it had gotten dark enough for them to consider that maybe they should head back out. Clover was about to get up, when she paused. There was something else she’d been meaning to say, but she’d been too nervous. Now seemed like the best time, so before he had a chance to get up, she nudged him.

“Hey, Hoxxy.. One more thing, yeah?”

“What’s that?” He looked down at her, brows raised.

“Don’t… Don’t call me over sentimental, okay, but… I love you.”

A strange cocktail of bewilderment and joy spread on his face, and he moved to pull her into another one armed hug, messing up her hair and feeling her forehead.

“Are you feeling alright? You’re not coming down with a cold or something are you?”

“Shut up, I mean it.” Her tone was considerably less jokey than it had been, and at that, his shoulders slumped a little bit. She’d never said anything like that to him before, not even before the incident, so this came as quite a shock. Not a bad one, but a shock nonetheless.

“You mean it?”

“I do.”

After a pause, that confusion melted away into just a sappy smile, and he shifted to turn their one armed hug into a full embrace. He held her nice, and tight, hiding his face in her hair for a moment. In turn, she wrapped her arms around his midsection, enjoying the feeling of just mutually returned affection. Her brothers, her biological ones, never gave her this gift, and she could never tell Hoxton how much it meant to her.

“I love you too.” He mumbled after a moment, still squeezing her. Hearing that made her sniffle just a little against his chest, and she turned to wipe her eyes with her sleeve. If he caught her crying, she’d never hear the end of it.

Clover took some time to pull away, and when she did, she couldn’t stop from smiling. Even as she went and got her jacket to throw on, she was positively beaming. She hadn’t done that in so long.

“I’ve got to clean up here a little bit, so leave the front door unlocked. I’ll handle it when I leave.” He said as she was throwing on her scarf.

“Gotcha. Be careful walking home, alright?”

“Yes mum.”

She could only roll her eyes as she grabbed her purse and started heading out. It was great seeing that he was just as much of a smartass as he always was. That’s how you could tell he was in a good mood.

“Oh, and Shelly?” He called out to her, before she could get out the door. Shelly... It'd been a long time since anyone had called her that. Naturally, it must be important, so she quickly turned back around. Her heels clacked rather obnoxiously against the linoleum as she trotted back into the living room.

“What, did I forget something?”

“No, no…” He paused, the gears in his head turning visibly as he thought about what he should say, “I just wanted to say sweet dreams before you left.”

Clover stared at him for a second, before shaking her head and laughing at him. She couldn’t believe he remembered that little nightly ritual they used to have back in the day. Maybe tonight spurred his memory, she wasn’t sure. But she was happy to oblige him as she turned to leave, giving him a wave.

“Sweet dreams, Hoxxy.”

**Author's Note:**

> ### I hope you enjoyed reading! Comments are appreciated and encouraged!
> 
>   
>    
>  **If you liked it,[reblog it](http://swanmask.tumblr.com/post/172811076214/ao3-you-have-terrible-commitment-issues) on tumblr for me!  
> **   
> 


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